


Til Death do Us Part

by scobblelotcher



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 15:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scobblelotcher/pseuds/scobblelotcher
Summary: The classic love story, except I get to tell it. I've actually restarted this since, with a different beginning, so thank you!! For reading this and for your kind words! The updated one will be published under the title And So Comes Winter, so keep an eye out for it :)





	Til Death do Us Part

With one hand around her glass of nectar and the other secured in her mother’s, Persephone was beginning to feel less like a prospective wife and more a ragdoll. She had been dragged around to speak with at least ten suitors this evening, and she was exhausted. She was tired of the false politeness, the less-than-stealthy scans of her figure, the murmurs that she was too young, too weak, too dark to make a pretty wife, and perhaps she would be better as a maiden goddess. Her mother was just as dark as she- both of their bodies, already darker than the other gods, were tanned after eternity of working under the sun. She didn’t care- she loved the feeling of sweat running down her back, and how much more rewarding cold water was afterward, but she didn’t appreciate the whispers, and she certainly didn’t understand why her lifestyle should change a husband’s opinion of her. 

“Mother,” she whispered, tugging on her hand, “I want to go home. Iolanthe says that there’s going to be a starfall tonight, and I want to see it.”

Demeter shook her head, her dark brown hair catching the light and shining indigo. “Kore, this party is for you. You can’t leave it.”

Persephone sighed sharply, both at the message and the use of her nickname. “There’s Athena,” she commented. “You should go say hello. I’ll get more nectar and meet you over there.”  Demeter hesitated, then consented. Her hand free at last, Persephone turned and headed towards the refreshments table. Then, with a glance over her shoulder to see if Demeter was watching, she ducked behind a cluster of satyrs balancing trays of ambrosia and grapes, and made a beeline for the gardens. 

She gave a sigh of relief as the sounds of chatter faded, replaced with the rustle of leaves and low hum of insects. Her fingers brushed against tendrils that had stretched beyond the confines of their flowerbeds, and the plants responded to her presence, perking up and glowing greener. She plucked a single pink rose and sat on a stone bench, urging the stem to lengthen and sprout new buds. Before long, she had coerced the plant into a ringlet covered in roses, and she held it up to the setting sun to observe her work. 

“That’s quite a neat trick.”

She jumped, dropping the crown and hurrying to pick it up, heat flushing her cheeks. “It’s rude to spy, you know,” she replied, looking over her shoulder to the source of the voice. A god she had never seen before was leaning against a golden trellis, his head cocked slightly to the side. 

A trace of shame crossed his features. “You’re right, that’s my fault. Apologies.”

Persephone considered the stranger. He seemed docile enough, even if his ivory skin and jet-black hair were out of place in Olympus. He must be a night god of some kind, she decided. At any rate, despite his tall frame and sturdy build, he had made no threatening gestures thus far, and she made the choice to trust him, at least for the time being. 

“Would you like one?” She offered. “I can do one in dahlias, or with hollyhock.”

He blinked. “Is that a spell?”

A giggle escaped her. “No, hollyhock- it’s a flower. That one, there,” she pointed at the plant next to his leg. He pointed at it, waited for her affirming nod, then picked one and gingerly cupped it in his hands to carry it over to her, sitting next to her on the edge of the bench. He smelled clean, Persephone thought, like a mountain spring. She gave him a warm smile as she took the flower from his large hands and ran her fingers over the spiraling petals, willing growth and coaxing the plant into a circle. She let the vine wrap around itself, forming a sort of braid as the main structure, and covering it with blossoms of different sizes. She studied it, sucking her teeth, before adding a final bud and presenting it to the man with a flourish. 

He took it as though he thought it might go up in flames, eyes flickering between her and the crown. It looked smaller in his hands, as he held it in his lap, studying it. 

“Well, don’t just hold it,” she said with a laugh. “It’s a crown, after all, it’s meant to be worn.”

She took her own crown, of roses, and placed it on her head, fluffing her hair to secure it into place. He was still holding it uncertainly. This man was odd, but he made Persephone curious. She wanted to know more about him. 

“Like this,” she said, taking the crown, pushing his hair out of his face, and placing it on his head. “See? Now we match!”

He stared at her, something curious burning in his blue eyes. “I suppose we do,” he said. “I have to assume- you are Persephone?”

_ He knows my name?  _ She was surprised to be recognized- usually, it took some hefty connections for someone to get her name.  _ You know, Demeter’s daughter? Goddess of springtime? No, she’s not a nymph, she’s actually an Olympian.  _ Even at this, a party that had been thrown for her, she’d had to introduce herself. “That’s me,” she said brightly. “I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I don’t know your name. I thought I knew everyone my mother invited tonight.”

His eyes softened. “Oh, that’s okay. I’m-“

“ _ Persephone!” _

They both flinched at Demeter’s aghast cry. Her petal crown fell askew, and she fixed it angrily as she stood up to face Demeter as she stormed down the brick walkway. The plants shied away from her, shrinking from the harvest goddess’s wrath. “Come here this instant!”

“But Mother, I’m just talking with- I’m sorry, she cut you off,” Persephone said, turning back to the man, who had now stood. Close up, she realized how much taller he was than her- she doubted that the top of her head came up to his collarbone. She had to look up to see his face. Returning to Demeter, she said, “I thought you introduced me to all of the suitors.”

“Suitor?” The strange asked, a confused look on his face. At the same time, Demeter hissed, “He is  _ not _ a suitor,” reaching them and grabbing Persephone’s wrist. “He shouldn’t be here at all. Come on, we’re going home.”

“I thought I couldn’t ditch my own party,” Persephone retorted, resentment boiling in her gut. 

“Now!”

She had no choice but to be dragged along by her mother yet again. She dug her heels in, though, to turn back and shout. “Wait! What’s your name?”

He straightened his crown, looking at her with that same curious expression. “Hades,” he replied, so soft that she almost missed it. 

A jolt of shock coursed through Persephone, and all of a sudden, she didn’t resist Demeter’s tug. 

  
  



End file.
